a difference of opinion

a challenge-fic

The Challenger: SoulVamp
The Challenge: Post-"Chosen" but also after Spike winds up back in LA. Configure Spike as you see fit (human, vamp, amnesia, whatever!). Xander shows up looking for help from W&H to resurrect Anya ("Hey, if SPIKE can come back..."). Angel, Spike, and Xander have a beer over this problem, with all three men having a difference of opinion. Slight angst, but more of a comedic yet still philosophical discussion ensues. I challenge you to keep it under 800 words.
Rating: PG (angsty subject matter)
Ship(s): n/a
Thanks to: SoulVamp, for the challenge and the fun, of course! And for all the fish.

"No."

Xander's brow knit in frustration and he sputtered a bit in his reply, "What do you mean… no? Do you mean no, it can't be done or is it more of a no, I'm not gonna do it 'cause if I can't be happy then no one else can either?"

"I mean… no," came Angel's retort. For a moment, the original vampire with a soul let his eyes wander from the face of one very irritated Xander Harris to one very quiet Spike. The latter sat nursing his beer with seemingly little interest in the conversation at hand.

"Come on," pleaded Xander, who was now gesturing a bit wildly to emphasize his point. "If Spike can be brought back from the dead…" This captured Spike's attention and drew him back into the fray between the carpenter and the champion with slightly raised eyebrows. Xander knocked his knuckles against the wooden surface of the bar and he went on, "… then, why can't Anya?!"

Angel begrudgingly admitted, "Spike's a… special case." It took a certain measure of self-control to keep Angel from amending some snarky comment that might demean just how "special" Spike was. He tried to explain without sarcasm, "He fulfilled his destiny." To this, Spike smirked rather proudly, knowing how much it bothered his Sire deep down inside; his pitiful spawn had been the one to shanshu and not him. The vampire's expression darkened, having caught Spike mild puffing despite the fleetness with which the posture departed.

"He's right, you know," said the blond, clapping a hand on Angel's shoulder. "It's some bloody prophecy bit that's brought me back… 'fraid they don't have a prophecy for former vengeance demons." Spike took a moment to wear a more serious expression, as Xander had begun to sink into a very noticeably depressed state. "Look, Xander… An was a good girl in the end, but she did a lot of bad things in her day. More than me 'n Peaches here put together, I'd wager." At being referred to as "Peaches," Angel visibly bristled and shrugged Spike's hand from his shoulder with an irritated growl.

Xander had finished his beer and was now eyeing the bottom of his glass as if certain there was more alcohol to be found within if he could stare long enough. He'd stopped paying attention after Angel called Spike a "special case." It was all he could do now to sigh and try and come up with other reasons that his dead ex-fiancée should be resurrected. He went another route. "Well, what about with Buffy? Will managed to bring her back! Can't you have your new… people… work some kind of dark mojo?" He was desperate now, grasping at straws, and it showed.

"Look, Xander, I understand what you're going through," said Angel. At first, Xander just looked skeptical and unbelieving… until he thought about all of the things that Angel had gone through, just in the last few years. Xander had heard about it all, of course, from Willow and Faith. Both of the girls had spent a fair amount of time in Los Angeles since the destruction of Sunnydale, catching up with old friends and making new ones. Each time they returned with stories and something to report back to Buffy. He'd heard about the whole Darla-having-a-kid thing. And the Wesley-stealing-the-kid thing. And the Cordelia-giving-birth-to-a-demon-bent-on-enslaving-the-world thing. He was still really confused by that last one but now certainly wasn't the time to get into it. He was here for Anya. His Anya.

"Angel… I appreciate what you're trying to say but," Xander struggled to make an adequate excuse for what was going through his head. "I just… want my girl back." Spike had fallen back into his silent funk again and was now eyeing Angel in wait for some kind of reaction.

The vampire shook his head, "No." He stood up, having apparently had enough of the conversation. His thoughts were now stuck on other, darker things. "I'm sorry."

Xander quickly replied, his voice turned hollow and biting, "Are you really?" He slumped down in his chair and just focused on his empty beer glass. Angel tucked a pair of folded bills beneath his half-emptied bottle and headed for the door without another word, leaving Spike and Xander to drown in awkward silence.

Finally, after Angel's back disappeared through the exit, Spike spoke up. "S'for the best, mate." It was all he could think to say.

"How would you know," replied Xander sullenly. "You get to live."